


Hidden Things

by Fangu



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangu/pseuds/Fangu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stilshrine of Miriam is a twisted, curious place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prince_Lex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Lex/gifts).



> I asked for a suggestion of anything XII related for me to write. "prince-lex said: Basch/Balthier somewhere around the stilshrine of miriam. Go on, write your first yaoi ;)"

The Stilshrine of Miriam is a twisted, curious place. At first sight it looks to be plain, its rooms lined up neatly, connected with hallways of corners of ninety degree angles. But not all of its hallways are revealed from the outside: There are walls that moves, revealing hidden spaces in the most unlikely of places.

Balthier holds his gun uncocked by his hip as the party trots silently down a corridor of stone. Behind him walks the fourteen year older blond ex-captain of the Dalmascan army, who keeps poking at the walls with his sword.

“Why do you keep doing that? We’re not here to get lost”, Balthier tells him, his voice sounding annoyed, mostly to cover up the eerie feeling he has about this place. Basch only chuckles. “Maybe I’ll find a shortcut.”

And indeed, the twentieth or so time he pokes at the wall, it vaporizes into fog, revealing a short hallway. “Oh look!” He exclaims.

Balthier stops, then joins him in staring down into the corridor. It seems to turn a few meters in. “Congratulations”, Balthier mumbles.

He remains silent as Basch crosses the line where the wall once stood. “It doesn’t appear to be that long”, Basch says. “I’m gonna see where it leads.”

Balthier watches him, curious. He then follows.

Basch has just reached the corner when the light in the room changes. Even without turning, Balthier knows the wall has shut close behind him.

“Fran”, he calls as he nears the wall. She is already close on the other side; Fran seems to be able to sense when he’s about to get into trouble. “It will not open”, she calls, her voice muffled by the stone. “It seems irreversible at the moment. Can you get out through the other end?”

Balthier looks at Basch, who nods. “It appears to lead down to an open space with several sets of stairs. There are several main paths.” He grins. “It’s a shortcut.”

“Yes. We believe it leads to where we’re going.”

“Wait for us there”, Fran replies.

Balthier follows Basch down the flight of stairs leading to the opening in the wall which reveals the open space. It’s quite impressively built, which does not surprise them as they are in the tomb of one of the great Galtean rulers.

Basch halts. “The stairs lead down here.” He puts a hand to his hip and studies the scenery.

“Why are we stopping?”

Basch snorts. “You’re an impatient man, aren’t you. You don’t like being alone in this corridor with me?”

 _Well_ , Balthier thinks. He’s heard rumours of Rasler’s old captain being of the queer type, but he is not sure if the word on Balthier’s love for diversity has reached the captain. The man was caged for a long time. _Speaking of caged…_ Balthier feels a hard pulse beat against his trousers.

Balthier crosses his arms, amused as he searches for the correct line for this moment.

“What can I say. I’m a pretty man, and you are... a beast.”

Basch turns around. When he wants to, he can appear quite dangerous, as he does in this exact moment. Balthier welcomes it, even when Basch walks up to him to shove him against the hard stone wall with one arm, the other leaning over Balthier’s head.

“Why do you insist on wearing these trinkets”, he says and taps one of Balthier’s earrings with a fingernail. “You always sparkle just right with your perfect guns, hand woven shirts and jewellery.” He leans into Balthier’s ear. “But you don’t need any of this to shine. In fact,” he says, long fingers finding their way in under Balthier’s collar to start loosening it, “all I think when I see them is how much I want to take them off.”

Balthier swallows dryly. Basch is good at this, surprisingly good, and Balthier always saw himself as the sweet talker of the group. “It unlaces from the back”, he murmurs, and at those words Basch grabs his shoulders to resolutely turn Balthier around to face the wall. They both remain quiet as Basch unlaces his vest with brisk movements. Balthier shivers, his erection starting to swell against the constriction that is his trousers.

“Arms up, pirate boy”, Basch orders huskily, then he pulls Balthier’s vest and shirt over his head and lets the garments drop to the floor. Balthier then sees the scars on his hands as he places his palms against the wall, pushing Balthier into the wall, the stone rough and cold against his stomach. Balthier feels Bachs’ cock press against his arse; it is harder than his own. He wonders how long Basch has been wearing this hard-on. The man strikes him as someone likely to walk around with a constantly half-stiff cock.

Balthier twists in his embrace to face the ex-soldier. Basch’s expression is almost wicked, a fire in his eyes. “So”, Balthier says and shoots his chin forward for a second as a gesture. He stares at Basch’s mouth, allowing him the first move.

Basch smiles, a low, coarse laugh caught in his throat, then he kisses him, tongue first, lips parted wide. Balthier keeps his mouth open for him. This is a kiss of hunger, of unsated lust pent up for too long, and not of pleasantries.

Basch’s hands finds Balthier’s chest, his neck, his waist, exploring skin, his hands enjoying what he finds. When his finger finds the waistline of Balthier’s trousers, he lets them slide along the top before getting to work on Balthier’s buckle. Balthier exhales.

When his fingers finds Balthier’s erection, the older man growls. He tastes wonderfully of musk, blond hair tickling Balthier in an eye, kissing with ferocity as he rubs Balthier slowly with a flat palm, fingers stretched down to caress his balls. At that, Balthier allows himself to moan into Basch’s mouth. Basch smiles, removes his hand from his cock and moves to suckle on Balthier’s neck.

Every time Basch moves his mouth on a lower part of Balthier’s body, he feels his cock twitch with expectation, hardening further. He knows what Basch means to do, and he longs for it. Finally, Basch kneels to study Balthier’s cock. He presses it against Balthier’s stomach with a thumb, then leans in to lick his balls.

 _Oh fuck_ , Balthier thinks, then he gets to watch Basch tend to him in the finest of ways. He dares to move strands of blond hair out of Basch’s face as the male treats his cock with his mouth.

At this, he is fucking excellent. Balthier can not remember the last time he _sobbed_ while being sucked off.

When he comes, he whines as a teenage boy, his seed shooting hard in several pleasant loads, Basch’s mouth still around his cock. After swallowing, Basch licks him clean.

Basch wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, a shine in his eyes that is new. Balthier wants to lean in and grab him, redoing the favour in any way Basch would wish, but he appears to be paralyzed, as if he is almost scared to do so. Instead he grins sheepishly, feeling empty of words.

Basch then turns to walk towards the stairs.

“Hey”, Balthier says. “You don’t want this… returned?”

Basch throws a hand up as a reply.

“This feels rather unfair.” Balthier has to speak up as Basch is moving further away from him.

“If you find another moving wall, I might let you try to get me off”, he says. “But I warn you, I am a hard man to please.”

When they meet up with the rest of the party, Balthier finds himself poking at the walls with the end of his gun. Basch grins.

 


End file.
